The Sensations Art Can Bring
by emoyaoi69
Summary: HIATUS originally Untitled. Mohinder injects himself with the formula and expects to have super strength or mind-reading ablities. But, the power Mohinder gets is a very special one... May contant spoilers. Slight AU. Mpreg. Umm... Yeah. Read and review
1. Chapter 1

Warnings: Slash. Yaoi. Sex. Mentioned Rape. Mpreg.

Disclaimer: I do not own Sylar or Mohinder, Zachary Quinto or Sendhil Ramamurthy. Tom Kring owns Heroes, Sylar and Mohinder, and his own genius. Sendhil and Zachary own themselves.

Inspiration: Series three, episode one. When Mohinder injects himself with the formula.

Mood: Happyish

Music: P!ATD ~ I Write Sins

_**Prologue**_

Lying semi-conscious in the docks of Brooklyn, New York is not a clever thing to do alone, at night. Anything could happen: You could get murdered, for instance. But that didn't cross Mohinder Suresh's thoughts when he knew that he could jump at the chance to be _special_. He had seen many people with many different abilities. Hell, he lived with a telepathic cop and a young clairvoyant. He had met a man that could paint the future. He had met a young woman that could regenerate at an exceptionally rapid pace. So, why couldn't Mohinder be like _them_? Why couldn't he be special?

In his semi-conscious state, Mohinder didn't quite know or understand what was happening when two rough-looking guys came over to him; and started to pat him down, searching him for anything valuable. But, other then his watch and a ten dollar bill, Mohinder had nothing of value on him. So, if the two thugs couldn't get nothing decent from Mohinder, why not just drop him into the water? Or beat him so badly that he'd drop _himself _into the cold water? No. If Mohinder couldn't give them anything that they could sell or trade in for some decent crack. They would take something from Mohinder which would not only scar him mentally, but change the young geneticist's life forever.

Later and later into cold night at the docks in Brooklyn, New York; Mohinder lay, found by a tall figure, darkened by the shadows.

Perspiration practically waterfalled off of Mohinder. His fever was high. Even in Tamil Nadu, India; the temperature had never felt as bad as this. Not only was his fever bad, but his nightmares were even worst. Memories of what had happened when he was a child. What had happened when Shanti, his sister, had died. What happened when his father, Chandra, was murdered by Sylar. What had happened the night at the docks. In his head, he was replaying every moment. From the moment when he injected himself the formula, right through to when he thought he was going to die. In his dream-filled sleep, Mohinder heard someone calling out his name in the distance. The voice sounded so familiar to him, but Mohinder couldn't pin-point the owner of the voice.

In his unconscious, nightmare-fuelled state, Mohinder screamed. The feeling of his nightmare felt so real, and it hurt so terribly. Mohinder awoke with a start, his hand eerily and instinctively rested on his stomach. His breathing was heavy. His dark, curly hair was a mess. His was still wearing clothes (A/N: Sighs in relieve). And he was comfortably situated in a bed, a bed that belonged to the same person that had... changed him?

Mohinder looked around frantically. Somebody had found him. Had saved him. But who? How? He was alone at the docks early hours in the morning; only idiots wander around Brooklyn alone early hours in the morning (A/N: Really? Like who?). Looking around, Mohinder was trying to find some sort of clue, anything, that would tell him who's room it was that he was asleep in.

The room itself was a nice size. And the furnishing wasn't over-crowed. Whoever owned the room had neutral taste is decoration. There was a dark, three-door, wooden wardrobe. A full-length mirror, that matched the wardrobe. And a chest-of-draws that also matched. As did the king-sized bed Mohinder was lying on. The walls were a plain cream colour, but the paintings contrasted the walls. One painting in particular stood out, and caught Mohinder's attention for a moment. A painting of the Arc Angel Gabriel sat a few inches above the bed Mohinder lay in. It was the most elegant, peaceful, sensual piece of art work Mohinder had ever seen.

Deciding that he wasn't going to find out who saved his life by sitting in the said person's bedroom, Mohinder exited from the king-sized bed. Mohinder stumbled to the bedroom door, making his was through the house is saviour own. Again, the interior design was nothing to brag about. But the art work, again, was. Whoever had painted them must have had years of skill. Meaning to explore the house some more, Mohinder felt a shooting pain through his back and fell. Only to be caught by his angel, an angel Mohinder never would have thought he had.

Gabriel Grey.


	2. Chapter 2

Warnings: Slash. Yaoi. Sex. Mentioned Rape. Mpreg.

Disclaimer: I do not own Sylar or Mohinder, Zachary Quinto or Sendhil Ramamurthy. Tom Kring owns Heroes, Sylar and Mohinder, and his own genius. Sendhil and Zachary own themselves.

Inspiration: Series three, episode one. When Mohinder injects himself with the formula.

Mood: Relieved

Music: H.I.M and Jeffree Star

A/N: I'm sorry it took a while. And I'm sorry its so short. But, I promise, the next chapter will be longer. And I will have it posted before my week holiday is over.

Please read and comment. And I gives you cookies.

**Chapter One**

Mohinder shot-up from the bed for the second time that day. Perspiration dripping from his forehead as he looked around. He was in that bedroom again. The room with the cream coloured walls. The room with the dark, wooden furniture. The room with the king-sized bed that he lay in. The room with the beautiful painted portrait of the Arc Angel Gabriel that hung above the bed. The room that belonged to _Sylar_.

A loud banging sound alerted Mohinder's attention and made him spin his head around to the direction of the noise. As he faced the door, he was met, again, with a sight he thought the would never have seen.

Gabriel walked through the door; clothed in plain, grey slacks and a white, button-up shirt and dark blue tee-shirt pulled over the top of it. His hair slicked back. He was carrying a tray; with a China bowl and a glass on-top of it. And also a small box.

Gabriel wandered over to the bed, placing the tray on the bed-side stand and motioned to sit on the bed, until Monhinder skidded away.

"Hey. What's wrong, Mohinder?" Gabriel asked, worry covering his face.

Mohinder just stared at him. This must have been a joke. It had to be. This man with worry in his deep Brown eye; was the same man who killed many others with powers, just for the simple pleasure of becoming the world's strongest human being. And now here he was; being a perfectly normal, everyday New Yorker.

"What do you want, Sylar?" Mohinder questioned, still putting distance between the two of them. He would not give Sylar the chance to get him.

"Heh," Gabriel had small smile on his face, "Mohinder you don't need to fear me. I was the one who helped you. I could have left you on the docks to die, but I didn't. And really, if I was going to kill you; I would have done it already." The smile never went from his face, but that last sentence was Sylar speaking.

"Now, Mohinder" The voice of the Angel said, "You're going to eat. And get some fluids in you. Then you're going to take the medication that's in the box. Don't worry, it won't kill you. It's just to help lower your temperature. And when I get back, I expect you to be asleep. Okay, Mohinder?"

All Mohinder could do was nod, dumbly. This was definitely a dream; he was sure of it. His temperature was making him have delusional dreams where Gabriel Gray had never become Sylar.

* * *

Returning to his apartment, Sylar walked through the door drenched from the falling rain. Shuffling off his heavy trench coat, Sylar wandered towards the darkened bedroom....


	3. Chapter 3

Warnings: Slash. Yaoi. Sex. Mentioned Rape. Mpreg. Slight OOC.

Disclaimer: I do not own Sylar or Mohinder, Zachary Quinto or Sendhil Ramamurthy. Tom Kring owns Heroes, Sylar and Mohinder, and his own genius. Sendhil and Zachary own themselves.

Inspiration: Series three, episode one. When Mohinder injects himself with the formula.

Mood: Fucked about tomorrow

Musik/Film: Disturbia

Beta: Aaron

A/N: Hallo! Here it is: As I promised. Chapter three of Untitled (By the way, if anyone has a title name for this. If would be greatly welcomed). I would love to get feedback. And you can has cookies and pocky.  
(1) ~ In 1971 the population was 2,420,000. And in 1981 the population was 3,266,034. So, if Mohinder born in 1974, if wouldn't quite be 3,266,034 just yet.

**Chapter Two**

The sun glared through the bay window and shun down on the grey sheets.

Mohinder groaned; and with his eyes still shut from being half-asleep, he pushed away the thick, winter blanket. He covered his face with his arms and rolled onto his side, and further into the bed. And onto another body.

Gabriel was sleeping. After arriving back last night, drenched from the rain. He had stripped down to nothing, grabbed a pair of faded pyjama bottoms and when straight to bed. The sun was rising and glaring through window and down onto the sheets. Gabriel whined and pulled the sheets over his head, blocking the suns ray. Just a few minutes after...

Gabriel jumped up. The old bed-cover falling half off of the bed. Gabriel's instinct told him to push whatever had awoken him. And had ended up pushing Mohinder onto the hard, woorden floor. Causing a loud thump as Mohinder's rear-end and the wooden floor met.

"Ouch." Mohinder moaned. "All you had to do was tell me to move. You didn't have to push me onto the floor." Mohinder said, getting up as he rubbed his sore lower-back.

Gabriel made a quiet, huffing noise. "Well, you didn't have to come onto another man in his unconsious state, _Mohinder._" He said with a flat tone, getting up and walking away. Leaving Mohinder standing on the floor with his wounded behind.

Mohinder followed Gabriel's movements till he was out the door and out of site. Closing the door quietly, and wandering over the unmade bed slowly. Mohinder's thoughts enticed him. '_What on Earth am I doing here? In Syler's home? __**In his bed**__? Gosh, not only in his bed. But, actually in the __bed __**with **__him. And I rolled onto him. How embarassing...' _Mohinder's eyes widened.

"_Well, you didn't have to come onto another man in his unconscious state, Mohinder"_

What was Sylar implying? Coming onto him. Mohinder wasn't coming onto him when he moved in his sleep and bumped into Sylar. It was a mistake that was made. Even in that huge bed. Nothing more. Mohinder wasn't like that. He didn't swing that way. Mohinder Suresh had never thought himself to be.... Gay.

Gabriel Gray. Sylar. Thirty-one years of age. Intuitive Aptitude; his own ability. And current possessor of many other abilities that _Intuitive Aptitude_ has helped him gain. He has been given the nick-name; The Brain Man. The Bad Man. And even The Boogeyman.

Was currently downing a mug of strong, black coffee. He needed it. After being woken up by being Mohinder, he wasn't happy. Firstly; he hadn't gotten all that much sleep. He had walked into his apartment at four-thirty AM that morning. And it was five minutes past seven. And secondly; he wasn't expecting to be awoken by another person. Let alone another male. When he had climbed into bed, he didn't really take all that much noticed that Mohinder was also in the bed.

'_Heh. How stupid. I knew that he was there. I __**put**__ him. I mean, it's not like I meant to find him. Or even bring him back. I should have just killed him right there. That way; he wouldn't get in my way. I don't even know __**why**__ I picked him up. What was I thinking?' _Sylar thought

"That's probably it. I wasn't thinking." Gabriel concluded. Bring the mug of coffee closer to his mouth and finishing off the liquid. "I just... wasn't thinking."

Gabriel pushed open the bedroom door. Keeping his eyes forward, refusing to look in the direction of the huge bed. Gabriel walked over to the floor-to-celling wardrobe. He grabbed a pair of dark grey slacks and a plain blue, long-sleeved tee-shirt. Ready to walk back out the bedroom door quite fast- something stopped him.

The grey sheets were tousled and were thrown half onto the floor. The other half of the heavy bed-cover was partially covering Mohinder's hazelnut-coloured body. One of his toned legs not under the covers. The genetics professor's eyes were gently twitching; indicating he was dreaming.

_Madras, India. 1975_

_Four-year old Shanti Suresh was taking her one and a half-year old baby brother, Mohinder, to the __out-skirts of Madras, India. Away from the ever-busy market stools. Away from the ever-growing 2,420,000 (1) population count. The heat was rising- as it always did that time of year._

Shanti was wearing a cotton red and orange lacha that came just under her knees. Her past-shoulder length hair was in two braids. The bangles on her arms clanging together as she carried _Mohinder. Her feet bare as she walked through the hot sand grains. Her younger brother was wearing a thin cotton kurta pajama in the colours of light orange and white.  
_

_Shanti had been carrying her brother for a few hours, wandering through the quieting city. As they reached the quietest part of Madras; Shanti heard their mother calling. And slowing walking nearer to the two young children._

Their mother was wearing was wearing a traditional Indian sari; also being coloured with red and orange. Her simply patterned saree draped over one of her lithe shoulders and slightly covered the lower part of her long hair.

"Shanti, time to come back now. You and your brother a probably hungry." Their mother said in her mother-tongue, Tamil. She took her youngest child from his sister, and positioned him on her right hip. With her left hand she held her daughter's smaller hand and slowly walked back to the home she shared with her husband, Professor Chandra Suresh.

Madras, India. 1989

_Mohinder was now fifteen years of age. He had grown much taller- He was nearing 5ft and 6 inches or 167 centimeters. His hair had grown into dark brown curls. He wore a dark red Kurta that stopped below his knees. Mohinder was currently studying to follow in his father's profession._

Brooklyn, New York. Two nights ago.

_He was confused. Two rough-looking men were approaching him. What did they want?_

They began to pat him down. Their hands digging through his pockets- trying to find whatever they could find. A ten dollar bill and an expensive watch. They needed crack. And even though the watch would get them a little. It wouldn't matter that much to Mohinder that he lost a watch and a tenner.

Mohinder was turning in his sleep. His head turning from left to right. His hand tightening as he gripped the sheets.

_One of the men grunted, staggering towards Mohinder's legs. The rough , tall man gripped Mohinder's trousers and yanked them down..._

"Mohinder...." Someone called. Mohinder was twisting and turning his dream-turned-nightmare of his memories was getting worse. "Mohinder. Wake up. Mohinder!"

He shot up, nearly head-butting Gabriel. He was sweating, breathing hard.

Mohinder grabbed a-hold of Gabriel's shoulders, gripping them tightly. Scared to let go. The next thing that Mohinder did shocked the both of them. Mohinder buried his in the junction of Gabriel's neck and his shoulder. And sobbed.

Hesitantly, Gabriel gently wrapped his arms around Mohinder's back. He pulled the Indian closer. Letting him sob all he wanted.


	4. Chapter 4

Warnings: Slash. Yaoi. Sex. Mentioned Rape. Mpreg. Slight OOC.

Disclaimer: I do not own Sylar or Mohinder, Zachary Quinto or Sendhil Ramamurthy. Tom Kring owns Heroes, Sylar and Mohinder, and his own genius. Sendhil and Zachary own themselves.

Inspiration: Series three, episode one. When Mohinder injects himself with the formula.

Mood: Vexed and kinda happy

Musik/Film: Minor Threat ~ Straight Edge

Beta: Sir Aaron Fuera VIII

A/N: Oh my Frankie-sama! I got it written with a little less then three weeks to spare for my deadline! I'm proud of myself!

There's racist comments in this chapter. I am not racist- Please do not think I am. Pwease?

Sank-yuu's too the white winged angel. Who sent me ideas for the title. *Gives cookies*

* * *

**Chapter Three**

It had been a week since Mohinder's anecdotal nightmare.

During that painfully slow week, Mohinder has been alone.

_Mohinder grabbed a-hold of Gabriel's shoulders, gripping them tightly. Scared to let go. The next thing that Mohinder did shocked the both of them. Mohinder buried his in the junction of Gabriel's neck and his shoulder. And sobbed._

_Hesitantly, Gabriel gently wrapped his arms around Mohinder's back. He pulled the Indian closer. Letting him sob all he wanted._

_After being embraced for, what Mohinder guessed, twenty minutes, he shuffled a little making Syler relinquish his hold of the darker man._

_After a moment; Sylar stood up slowly, his arm lingering at Mohinder's shoulder until the last touch as he walked out of the bedroom, leaving the door as it was, and out of his own apartment. And leaving Mohinder half-sprawled on the bed. Nervous. And perplexed._

For the third night in a row; Mohinder was restless.

He couldn't stop thinking. He was continuously thinking about the last week and a half. Thinking about why he had to be so stupid and why he wanted to be like _them. _Why hadn't he had any symptoms that showed he was one of them? He didn't even know what his newly-forced abilities were or even if the formula had worked at all. His mind wouldn't shut down. And it was driving him insane.

Walking out into the kitchen, Mohinder stared at the small clock. 12.56AM was the time it displayed. "Looks like I'm not going to get much sleep tonight, either." He sighed. Looking around Sylar's kitchen; Mohinder's eyes settled on the jar of coffee. _'It's not like it would make much difference. Maybe if I drink enough of it; I will eventually pass-out and get some rest.'_

Forgetting about the coffee, Mohinder ventured back into the bedroom and stood infront of the big window that was on the opposite side of Sylar's bed. It was practically black outside. No clouds. No stars. Just pitch black.

_'I wonder what Sylar is doing. Will he even come back? He has too. After all, this is his apartment. He wouldn't just leave home and all of his possessions here and just disappear. Or... Woul-'_

Mohinder's thoughts were abruptly ended by a loud shattering.

Shocked. Mohinder spun around hastily and ran out of the bedroom and into the direction of the sudden noise.

As Mohinder entered the main room of Sylar's home; he gasped. Mohinder gripped the door frame, stopping himself from going any further.

In the direction that Mohinder was looking; stood a man. He must have been in his mid to late twenties. His was a Dirty, Rusty Blonde colour. His shoulders were broad. He was wearing black jogging bottoms. A black, plain tee-shirt. And steel-toecap boots.

The man turned around. Staring straight in Mohinder's dark eyes and sending shivering all the way down his spine.

The man huffed. "I thought this flat was empty. Or, are you just ashamed to be a dirty immigrant?" He laughed, moving to Mohinder. Pulling a lock knife from one of his pockets and flips it out. "Come on then, slave. Get over to that wall." The man started swinging the knife around in an attempt to frighten Mohinder.

Not wanting to displease and make the man angry, Mohinder pushed his back flat against the wall with his shaking hands by his side.

"Ya'know," He said, 'playfully' dragging the small knife around Mohinder chest, "I coulda sworn I see a white boy leavin' this place a week ago. What's wrong? He not like you 'cause ya a fuckin' immigrant?" The man began laughing.

"No. Actually."

Both Mohinder and the man who broken turned their heads to the direction of the amused voice. Sylar was home.

He had changed his attire during the week he was gone. Mohinder briefly wondered where Sylar had acquired his current outfit: A black dress shirt; silk by the look and shine of it. Black dress pants. And a dinner jacket.

"I left here a week ago to go and see some _important _people. And now I'm back; I would like you to step away from my guest and come out side with me. So, we can sort this out like real men and not involve any unneeded bodies. Come on, _Daniel_. You're doing a wonderful job scaring my guest, but I would like to have a chat with you. A _private_ chat." Sylar conversed, his slightly amused voice not wavering.

Huffing again; the man, Daniel, spoke. "I don't know how the fuck you know who I am. But, fine. You'll have this private chat you want. Mr. ?"

Sylar smirked. The shimmer of evil shone in his deep brown eyes. "You don't need to worry about my name. All you need to worry about is out private conversation. Now. Should we go?"

Daniel walked towards and out of the door. Followed by Sylar, who closed it telepathically.

Once the foot-steps had disappeared, Mohinder slid down the wall onto his bottom. Folding his arms over his head, Mohinder thought out loud; "Of course you're not going to need his name. You won't be alive long enough to use it.

Outside.

Sylar and Daniel had walked at a steady pace, deciding they would stop at the silent parking lot with was next to the block of apartments.

Daniel, who was infront of Sylar, began talking. "So, man with no name. What's your deal bringing me here? Ya planning on rapin' me then killin' me and dumpin' my body somewhere?" He laughed, turning around to meet Sylar.

"Oh. Something like that Daniel. Only; I won't be raping you. Just killing you and disposing of your useless body."

"What?" Daniel raised an eyebrow. "Your either joking. Or, your on somethin' and by what ya sayin'- It's gotta be good shit!"

"I never joke, Daniel. I'm quite serious, actually" And with that; Sylar pinned the broad man up with very little effort. The Brooklyn born man started from the right side of Daniel's forehead and slowing moved his pointed finger across, cutting the top of Daniel's head. The screams did not stop him. They never did. Never could. Sylar enjoyed hearing them too much.

Returning back to his home; the first sight that came into Gabriel's view was Mohinder. Lying on the wooden floor, asleep.

Picking him up, Gabriel wandered to his room. Placing the sleeping man on the bed and under the blankets. Gray switched on the lights and only minutes later, was asleep himself.


	5. Chapter 5

Warnings: Slash. Yaoi. Sex. Mentioned Rape. Mpreg. Slight OOC.

Disclaimer: I do not own Sylar or Mohinder, Zachary Quinto or Sendhil Ramamurthy. Tom Kring owns Heroes, Sylar and Mohinder, and his own genius. Sendhil and Zachary own themselves.

Inspiration: Series three, episode one. When Mohinder injects himself with the formula.

Mood: Surprisingly not tired even though its 3.45AM

Musik/Film: Two And A Half Men

Beta: Sir Aaron Fuera VIII

A/N: I luffles feedback. And if you're in London, Essex, or even Hastings.. I would give you huggles, Pocky and cookies. But; If you're not, then I can only do that virtually. I'm sowwie.

A/N II: There's a quote from the series in this chapter! Who can find it?

Chapter Four

The sun was only just beginning to rise. Eight thirty-seven AM. Winter was coming. Night was starting to get longer. Days were getting colder.

The sheets on the winter bed-cover had been changed during the week Sylar has disappeared. The sheets were now Dark Red in colour. The pillow cases matching. Underneath the heavy winter duvet; two bodies lay close to each-other. Their body-heat being shared.

Sylar was lying on his back; his dress shirt undone. His slick hair tousled from one of the best night's sleep he'd ever had in a while. His arm was behind Mohinder's neck, his hand resting by the darker man's collarbone.

Mohinder was lying partially on his right side. His clothes creased from his night's sleep. His curls wild and sticking up in all directions. His head resting into the crock of Gabriel's neck. His arm nearly positioned on Sylar's toned stomach as they slept on.

It was another hour before one of the men started to stir. Mohinder.

Waking up from a long sleep; the first thing he was aware of was the body he was pressed up against- He wasn't sure whether it was Sylar's arm around his shoulder keeping them pressed closely. Or if it was Mohinder's sub-consciousness keeping him there. And instead of rolling over, alarming Gabriel and ending up on his arse again; Mohinder just stayed where he was.

A few minutes after waking himself up; The Indian man slowly shifted until he was fully resting on his side and brought this head back a little; so he was leaning his head more on Gabriel's shoulder rather then his neck. Mohinder then proceeded to _stare._

  
Sylar's hair, Dark Brown in colour, was tousled. Part of it covering his forehead and another part sticking up. _'Still not as bad as my own hair..'_ Mohinder thought, trying to pat down his untamed dark curls. Mohinder continued to gaze at sleeping serial killer. He looked quite contented in his deep sleep. Mohinder slowly- So not to alarm Gabriel, or even; Himself- brought his arm up. Courteously touching Gabriel's jaw; Noting how prickly it felt- Not in a bad way, though. He hadn't shaved in a couple of days.

Hair was partially covering Sylar's chest- Only his chest. His stomach was mostly smooth; other then around his navel and downwards...

Mohinder then, seemingly unaware in his mind, lowered his head a bit more. He couldn't see anything- Sylar's black trousers were _obstructing _Mohinder's view. All he could see was the trail of hair leading down and into Gabriel's clothing.

_'He's asleep. He isn't going to know.. Is he?' _The Indian adult thought to himself; feeling deeper in this trace and he stares at the one place he knows he's not allowed to. '_You can't do it. Its wrong. And he would most definitely kill me if I do anything.. like that..'_

Mohinder was so caught up in his own thoughts that he didn't hear the tell-tale noises of Gabriel waking up. It wasn't till Mohinder felt Sylar's hand thread through his dark curls; that the darker-skinned man was forcibly brought out of his trance and was now back in the real word.

"Mohinder.." Gabriel spoke lightly. His voice still groggy from just waking up and having not yet cleared his throat with liquid yet. "Mmm.. You need to remove your head from my shoulder so that I can get up... And make breakfast."

When Gabriel said that; Mohinder practically shot-up from the bed and into a standing position on the floor.

It was five seconds after Mohinder done that; that he heard a noise no-one thought Gabriel Gray. Sylar. Would make. He "giggled".

Very quietly. But, it was heard.

Mohinder just stood there as Gabriel got up. Ignoring his open shirt. He walked past Mohinder, towards the large wardrobe- He then rummaged though it. Pulling out a few items of clothing. Turning back to Mohinder; Gabriel smiled and handed the shorter man a shirt and trousers. Then headed out of the bedroom, so he could change.

Not ten minutes later, Mohinder wandered out almost slightly, his head down, wearing his _enemy's _slightly too large clothes. Gabriel had also changed out of the black clothing he had acquired before, and into more casual clothes. Cooking breakfast?

Mohinder wasn't sure what to do. He had seen things in the past week or so that he'd never thought a_nyone _would see.

"Mohinder.." The shorter man's head shot up. "Come here a minute, would you?" The voice sounds so eerie. Haunting even. Yet it drew Mohinder in- His feet moving him towards Gabriel.

When Mohinder was a few feet away from the other man; Sylar was soon in-front of him. Gabriel's hands reaching for the counter that was behind Mohinder, and trapping him there. Leaning towards Mohinder's ear; the taller man's mouth not quite touching the Indian man's ear, but was close to his shoulder. He whispered..

"You and I have trust issues, Doctor."

Mohinder raised his eyebrow. "Wh.. What are you talking about?" He stuttered, trying to Gabriel away. As he lifted his hands up to push the younger man away; Gabriel grabbed both of Mohinder's wrists with one hand and brought them up to his shoulder.

"I don't think so, Doctor." His tone of voice becoming _darker_.

"You see, Doctor Suresh. If we're going to live in the same space. Or rather, if I'm going to allow you to stay in my home; We shouldn't keep secrets." Mohinder tried to tugged his arms free. "Now," He smirked. "Would you care to tell me just why you were molesting me in my sleep _again_?"

Mohinder's eyes widened. _'No. How can he know I was.. __**touching **__him while he was sleeping__?'_

"No.." He said. His voice subdued. "No, I wasn't. I wouldn't molest a man whether he was awake or sleep. I'm not gay." He stated more firmly- trying to sound collected.

The chuckle Sylar let pass through his lips was dark. _Evil_. Gabriel leaned his head sidewards a little; until his mouth was mere centimeters from Mohinder's ear. Gabriel proclaimed..

"_You're lying_."

_'Oh, God." _Mohinder stared frightened into Sylar's own. _'I have to leave. If he knows when I'm lying; Then I'm not safe here!' _His attempts to free his wrists were now becoming frantic. He wanted to leave. Wanted to escape. He wasn't safe. If Sylar let go of Mohinder's wrist; the man would mostly likely knock himself out.

He was so caught-up, that he didn't notice Sylar had actually let go of his wrists. But, he had placed his hand back in its original spot. And started whistling.

It was then that Mohinder released his arms were free. But, he still couldn't get passed. "Move."

"No."

"Why not? You know I lied. You know that I was touching you while you were asleep. You want me gone just as much as I _want _to go!"

"See, that's just the thing, Mohinder." Sylar raised one of his hands to the back of his, as if scratching it. "You're lying again. You don't want to leave.. Just as much as I don't want you."

Gabriel leaned in, bringing his hand to rest on Mohinder's cheek as he pressed their lips together.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I do not own Sylar or Mohinder, Zachary Quinto or Sendhil Ramamurthy. Tom Kring owns Heroes, Sylar and Mohinder, and his own genius. Sendhil and Zachary own themselves.

Mood: Crushed.. (When I started writing this.. God knows why..).. In-pain now..

Beta: I know longer have a Beta.. In fact, I wish to stab him in his face..

A/N: *Laughs manically* Here it is.. I know it's been ages! Too long.. But, I'm back! Funny.. I already had part of this chapter written and I didn't even know..

Chapter Five

Startled at first; Mohinder soon over-came that and tightly wrapped his arms around Sylar's shoulders, kissing him back _desperately. _Mohinder's lower back was being pressed hard into the kitchen counter as Sylar irregularly ground his hips into the shorter man's.

Mohinder's head was spinning. Not just spinning. He felt light-headed. Here he was; Being held between his.. Or what he thought was .. his enemy. His body was reacting in ways its only ever done for a woman. But, more. His head never spun for a woman. He had never not wanted to stop kissing a woman. His heart never raced like it was now when he was in female company. He doesn't want to let go. Gripping onto Gabriel's still-open shirt. Scared. Scared that if he softened his grip. If they stopped kissing; Mohinder would wake up and be alone.

After spending the last two weeks or so with Gabriel; Mohinder concluded that he didn't want to go back to how things were.

_'Why am I doing this? I'll only have to go back to how things were before. No. I don't want to go back.' _He thought to himself as he leaned further into the kiss. _'I don't want to go back to being alone. I want to stay here. With Sylar. Gabriel. I don't care! I just don't want to go back!' _It was like Mohinder had lost his mind. His body was on fire- Whether because he was being intimate with Gabriel or whether it was because he was getting worked-up, he wasn't quite sure.

Mohinder clenched his fists; the joints of his fingers digging into Sylar's back. Tears were flowing down his face. He was kissing Gabriel with all his strength. Not wanting to stop. Not wanting to let go. He felt safe. Safe being in Gabriel's arms- He felt this type of safety when his mother would cuddle him at night when he was a child.

When his sister, Shanti, died. He became distant from his father. And his mother wasn't the same, either. And through his teenage years; He was basically on his own.

And now..

He felt safe again..  
And he didn't want to let go!

Pressing forward again, Mohinder was stopped. Strong hands were holding his shoulders- Stopping him from getting any closer to Gabriel.

"Mohinder.." His voice was calm, given the situation; Mohinder was crying. His cheeks were shining from the clear liquid. And with his clingingness; He was basically trying to get _into _Gabriel.

Gabriel's large hands were cradling Mohinder's wet cheeks. And placing a simple, quick kiss on the shorter man's forehead. His temples. And then an innocent kiss on Mohinder's swollen lips.

"Stop crying.. You're a grown man.. You shouldn't be crying like a child.." Sylar's sharp voice made Mohinder tense-up. And then a small smirk appeared on his face and moved his hands off of Mohinder's cheeks, wiping the wetness away.

"It's okay, Mohinder..." The large hands had wiped the tears away and were now resting on his shoulders. "Now.. I'm going to continue making breakfast." And he walked away.

Breakfast had been eaten. No exchange of words had been make since this morning. Gabriel hadn't seemed fazed by this morning's incident. In fact, he appeared quite cheerful- That was, if a man like Gabriel could be cheerful. Mohinder on the other hand was nearly a wreck. Anxiety painted on this face.

_'My God. What do I do? I kissed him. No... He kissed me. But, I still kissed him back. I even.. I even pushed my hips back to him.' _"I feel sick." He caught himself saying before he could stop it.

"Maybe you should go and lie down." Gabriel said, not even looking at Mohinder but mindless looking at what was happening on the News.

"I'm fine." He stated, not wanting Gabriel to think he was any more childish then he had shown already.

"Suit yourself. I'm going for a shower." The younger man got up, walking past Mohinder. "Don't fantasy about me too much, will you?" He smirked.

Mohinder could only groan.

Hearing the door to the bathroom shut, Mohinder stood up and moved himself to the bedroom- Which happened to be the room closest to the bathroom. You could even hear the water rushing out.

Before Mohinder could even sit down, his thoughts got the better of him; _'What if he knows I'm here? What if he finds out I purposely moved into this room so I could hear him take a shower? What if he calls me...' _He swallowed. _'Gay, again?' _The water began to rush. _'The water... That means he's... Maybe...'_ Mohinder laid down with a sigh, closed his eyes and waited for Gabriel to finish.

The water rushed down over Sylar's body. "What have I done? Letting him into my house... What an idiot. Though..." Gabriel's eyes soften. _'It is nice not being the only one here, and... I suppose, he's not that much of a threat. Or, even that bad-looking...' _The water stopped and Gabriel grabbed the large Black towel and headed into the bedroom.

Mohinder turned to face the pillow when he began to see light from the hallway peek into the room. He knew Gabriel would only be wearing a towel- If Mohinder was lucky enough- After all, this was Gabriel's house. He could do what he pleased. If he wanted to walk around in his Birthday suit; he could do so without judgement.

Mohinder kept his eyes closed and his face towards the pillow as he heard the wardrobe door open and close again. He wasn't going to look until he had the all clear from Gabriel that he was clothed. Suddenly Mohinder felt a warm hand on his shoulder and a calm voice telling him:

"I'm going to start dinner now..." As Gabriel went to walk away, a dark hand grabbed his own. The owner of that hand whispered- "I need to speak with you." Mohinder stood up from the bed. He wanted to at least have half a chance of defending himself if this went wrong. If he stayed on the bed, he would get crushed.

The darker man breathed in and began to let the words flow, "I know we started off as enemies. You wanted to kill me, and I wanted to try and find a way to stop you. But, then you did the unthinkable; you saved my life. I really can't imagine why. I just put it down to the fact that you are still human and that you still harbour emotion. But, then you let me stay in your apartment. You trusted me enough to leave me alone with your possessions. You let me sleep in your bed. You slept _with _me." Mohinder had to laugh. It was madness what he was saying. And Gabriel, he hadn't said anything. "And then... It happened; You said I molested you and I didn't. But, the second time around, I did. And I denied. I didn't want to believe what I had done. Where I grew-up, it had always been wrong and immoral to... Be like that. That's why this morning.. It opened my eyes. It showed me who I really am. I felt so hot inside. So safe. I never wanted to let go. And, it happened because of you. You showed me what I've been missing. How it feels to have passion for something. Gabriel." Mohinder looked down. _'I can't do it...' _A tear formed in the corner of this eye.

"Gabriel, I think... I love you."


End file.
